Escape
by Anti-canon
Summary: Castiel sees and opening and has to take it, but isn't sure whether he possesses the conviction to carry it out. Part of the Girl With One Eye 'Verse


**A/N: This was written for chys here at . Their request was: _"morning after would be fantastic or like Cas trying to avoid Dean and he keeps tracking him down_" I kinda combined the two into one, but I couldn't resist the opportunity, and the idea just ran away with me. :P This part turned out rather shmoopy despite the story it came from and I hope that's alright considering the first part was intended to be a PWP. :P I appreciate all comments and criticisms, and am still accepting prompts for more pieces within this 'verse. If you're interested, send me a message.**

Cas slowly started worming his way out from underneath Dean's outstretched arm, the dead weight pinning him tightly to the mattress. The young demon had finally fallen asleep- something that didn't happen often, seeing as how truly insatiable he turned out to be- and that was an opportunity that Castiel was determined to take. The sheets scratched at his bare skin uncomfortably as he pulled free and crawled to the end of the bed. He stood slowly, stretching his back carefully and hissing at the pull of the angry, red scratches that were fresh on his back. He had grown accustomed to the various aches and burns that came with the long nights when Dean rolled into town, and he tried not to admit there was a certain pride and pleasure that burned low in his belly at the sight and feel of the subsequent marks. He crossed the small, open room that made up the majority of his ramshackle studio apartment on quiet feet, making his way to the bathroom. Once there, he turned the sink on slowly, keeping his eye on the bed on watching diligently for any signs that Dean might be waking. When he was certain that he wouldn't stir, Cas ran a cloth under the water and began cleaning himself meticulously, careful to catch anything that might leave a lingering scent.

When he caught his own eyes in the mirror, he froze, mixed feelings giving a tight pinch in his chest. He brought the cloth to his neck and slowly started to wipe at a dark bruise expanding just beneath his jaw line. It was Dean's favorite place to mark him, and the only spot on his body that was in a constant state of injury. The demon was unusually careful with him, cycling through his various methods claiming, making sure to give his body ample time to recover- except for his jawline. Dean would always lavish the space of skin just as he was beginning to tip over the edge- the consistency of it nearly ritualistic. Touching the mark always sent shivers down his spine and as he ran the tips of his fingers over it now, his eyes closed involuntarily and a small sigh escaped his parted lips. He only allowed himself a brief moment before crouching low and opening the doors to the cabinet underneath the sink. Inside, a bucket that looked as if it could be used for a mop or sponge sat in the back corner and, a brand new pair of sweat pants and jacket lay carefully folded at the bottom. Castiel had placed them there while wearing gloves and had been careful to make sure that they never came into direct contact with his body until now. It had taken weeks to plan this out and now that the time was finally upon him, Cas could only describe himself as detached. He felt as though he was outside of himself watching his body in autopilot as it carefully pulled on the clothes and padded towards the door, pausing only to throw a lingering glance at the bed before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Castiel stared out the window of the train car blankly, his body jerking back and forth with the rough movements on the track. He stood, hand clutching tightly to the plastic strip hanging from the rails above, despite the large availability of seats around him. Outside calm clouds swirled against each other in the muted sky, lingering after the flash storm from last night. The ground was still wet and the air had a bite to it that Cas found invigorating. The thin pair of sweats that he wore weren't quite equipped for the unexpected weather and he found himself riding the cars all throughout the city, unmotivated to head back into the unpredictable entropy of the outside world. Here, in the quiet bubble which he had taken shelter, everything was simple and static. He watched vacantly at the scenery that rolled by, the world's colors turned several shades darker by the rain.<p>

At first, this had meant to be an escape, but when it finally arrived he was genuinely unable to pull through, contemplating why he found himself stuck. Despite his own questionable consent in the beginning and Dean's strange possessiveness, he continued to find himself growing comfortable in this new routine. The demon never truly treated him badly and he was starting to try and find reasons to stay. He was certain that if any of his old acquaintances looked at him now, their opinions would be rife with condemnation and disappointment, but he didn't want to be the kind of person that would gain their approval anymore. He was nearly ready to give in to the roiling hopelessness that was beginning to pull at his insides when he felt a pair of rough hands slide a warm leather jacket over his shoulders just as they had so many nights before.

He felt himself being pulled flush against a heaving chest and he couldn't help but lean into the familiar touch. As the labored breathing in his ear began to even out, he started to turn his head over his shoulder, only to have his jaw gripped fiercely to stop the movement. Dean growled low in his ear, his voice… off, "I thought- I thought I wasn't gonna have any trouble from you." Cas sucked in a tight breath as teeth nipped sharply at the shell of his ear, though he could sense there was no heart behind it. Dean's fingers gripped his shoulder harshly and thin tendrils of guilt were staring to creep into his heart.

"You won't," Castiel assured him softly, "I just needed some space, some time to just sit and think." Beyond that he offered no explanations or excuses, remaining quiet and pliant, hoping to assuage whatever emotions were holding his usually charming and confident lover captive. After several long minutes he circled hesitantly, Dean's arms still tight around his frame. The demon's expression twitched minutely as the inky black of his true eyes warred with the original glowing green. Cas slowly let his hands trail up Dean's body and across his face, his fingers dragging on the skin as he gently pushed Dean's eyelids closed. Then, as tenderly as he could, he began a trail of chaste kisses across his face, ending with a lingering press against the plump pink lips before pulling back.

When Dean reopened his eyes, Castiel bared his throat in what he knew to be Dean's favorite show of submission and patiently waited for the teeth he knew would latch just beneath his jaw. "Don't think you're gonna get off that easy darlin'," the familiar arrogant drawl crept back into Dean's voice easily when he nipped at the tender bruise. An intimidating smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as he groped at the back of Cas' sweats, "When we get back, you're gonna have to call the bar and tell them you can't make it in tonight."


End file.
